Golf Money
One Man’s Quest to Add Up the Direct Impact of Tiger Woods on His Wallet
2009-12-17
By Eric Easter

This morning I stopped by my storage joint to get some Christmas decorations and stumbled over my wife's golf clubs. The ones she used maybe twice, along with the special suede Hush Puppies two-tone golf shoes she wore twice, but bought because of Tiger Woods.  Being the usual financial pragmatic person I am, that to thinking about how dramatic the effect is that Tiger has had on the monetary end of the golf industry and very possibly what might be lost for quite a while. Basically, I started to put on paper to just how much money my household alone has spent based directly on the Tiger influence.

The reality is pretty amazing. Here's the background:

My family actually played golf. My uncle, Barnett Lloyd and my oldest brother, Bobby, were both caddies at one of Baltimore’s famous private country clubs, which was all white, though the caddies got to play in off hours. But for the certification and the money, both were essentially pros in terms of skill.

Still, the golf gene did not go deeper into the family. My brother went into the service at 18 and did not pass on the skill and I - like a lot of people- grew up largely dismissing golf as about the dumbest waste of land possible. Now jump a couple of decades and the Tiger Woods hype begins in earnest. As a direct result of that hype, my wife (then girlfriend) buys me my first set of clubs - a starter set of steel shaft Wilsons. Cost: About $300.

Immediately, I had to fill in the gaps – shoes, hat, balls, glove. Cost: About $100.

I was gun shy about going right to the course, deathly afraid of hitting someone with the ball, so I literally spent a year on the putting green and driving range before I had the confidence to hit the links. At about $10 per bucket, I probably spent about $600 working on my swing. The end of the first year, and already $1000 in without any real golf played. About what most people spend on Starbucks without realizing it. Silly when you think about it, but not unusual.

Year Two brought some bravery and actual golf. Like a lot of people I had beginner’s luck, hit massive drives and shot a 72 on my very first 18-hole round.  I was hooked. I’ve spent the last decade trying to recapture that moment (to no avail). In dollar terms, Year 2 meant greens fees, carts, replacing lost balls, more clothing and more – much more – practice. Estimated cost: About $1500.

Year 3 brought the need for more beautiful and challenging courses, since Year Two was primarily spent on DC’s fairly barren municipals. So, off the bat let’s triple and quadruple the greens fees. Better courses also meant running into a bunch of immaculately dressed Japanese golfers who could not play a lick but looked great and had the most expensive set of Pings you could buy, plus the funky tour bag to go with it.  Ah, envy and the temptation to upgrade. Meanwhile, Tiger’s winning more and signing a deal with Nike for equipment. Do I need new clubs?  I begged off the new clubs, but swung for shoes, a bag that didn’t topple over, plus a new Nike graphite driver and new sand wedge to replace one I left behind. Cost of Year Three:  About $2000. If you don’t play golf and that sounds high to you, it amounts to only about 20 rounds of golf at an average of $100 a round.

Years 4 and 5 brought a routine, some favored golf courses and a regular set of golf buddies. This adds to the mix mostly the cost for beer, more expensive pre and post-game meals and a just a few golf trips. Luckily most of my golf buddies are friends from college who are either broke or rich and cheap, so the trips never were extravagant or even very far.  Given Tiger’s recent history, perhaps I should add the cost of strip clubs to these years as a direct Tiger-influenced line item. I will not quantify the  percentage breakdown between golf and strip joints. My best guess: About $3000 per year – mostly in singles.

Since becoming a Dad seven years ago, full rounds of golf have been almost unheard of. We’re talking nine holes and 6:00 a.m. tee times so I can be home by music lessons.  Definitely no golf trips with the fellas, though that’s been my default excuse for getting to Brazil, but that has not worked on my wife so far. Even without playing much, I still broke down and switched to a Nike driver, a new putter, an even newer bag, some dry wicking shirts, soft spike Nike shoes, and assorted head covers, tees, more balls.  I will take the cost of clothing out as a direct Tiger impact since, to my great consternation, Tiger really loses it on style points.

Still, with Tiger as a very direct role model, coupled with the idea that a kid can play golf his entire life, I started taking my oldest son, and then my second to the course as soon as they could hold a club and not act like it was a pirate sword. Not a lot of money spent, really. Mostly free time on the putting range, a bit of time on the driving range, two junior sets of clubs, a couple hats, plenty of burgers at the clubhouse and a few rounds of mini-golf for good measure. I also use early mornings on the year-round heated driving range as my “think time”. Those sessions are $13 for a large bucket at my course in Chicago. My best guess as a yearly average from the birth of my first child until now: About $600 year. But I have my eye on a new set of Callaways.

So let’s do the math. In my estimation, my household is into Tiger for a sum total of nearly $14,000.

So now more math. Using my numbers as a basic average, multiply my example by a relatively conservative 1 million people around the globe (Tiger is a global brand after all) and you’re left with $14 BILLION (with a B) dollars.  And mind you, my expenditures over the span of years is incredibly low compared to moderate or serious golfers who really follow the game and play at every opportunity. This estimate of course does not even attempt to factor in the value of ratings, sponsors and the assortment on non-golf related expenditures influenced by Tiger’s brand.

If Donny Deutsch is correct, Tiger’s troubles won’t significantly shirt those billions from golf’s bottom line. In his estimation, people’s buying habits don’t work that way. I tend to agree, but that does little to stem the fear factor at golfing’s highest levels as well in the media organizations who make money from golf advertisers and make ratings from Tiger news.  But if you’ve asked yourself why a guy cheating on his wife is still a story after two weeks, your question -I think- has been answered. Just follow the money.